


Kohl

by frumplebump



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Angstshipping - Freeform, M/M, One Shot, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Short, playing with makeup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 11:44:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7359931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frumplebump/pseuds/frumplebump
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malik wants to see what Ryou would look like wearing his kohl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kohl

“You hardly ever wear your kohl anymore.”

Malik shrugged. “I stand out enough here as it is.” He met Ryou’s eyes in the bathroom mirror. “Why, do you miss it?”

“A little,” Ryou admitted. “It’s really hot.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhm.” He pretended to concentrate on brushing his teeth.

“I wonder how it would look on you.”

“On me?” Ryou laughed. “Probably just weird. I can’t pull that off.”

“If it’s hot on me, then it would be amazing on you.”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

“Bet it does.” Malik leaned forward and nuzzled his nose into the warm hollow behind Ryou’s ear. “Now I want to try.”

“Right now?”

“Why not?” He squeezed Ryou around the waist. “Please.”

“Is that even okay? I thought it was supposed to have some sort of sacred significance.”

“You’re the one who just implied that I should keep wearing it because it’s hot.” Malik smirked at the flush that started to color Ryou’s cheeks. “It’s  _ my  _ cultural heritage, Ryou. If I say you can put it on while you’re standing in the bathroom wearing pajama pants, then who’s going to stop me?”

Ryou heaved his  _ I-give-up _ sigh and Malik grinned, reaching for his kohl.

He brushed the hair away from the sides of Ryou’s face, trying to tuck it behind his ears, but it resettled stubbornly in its usual position. “Give me that,” Ryou said, pointing to the elastic band holding Malik’s hair back. Malik tugged the band out, but instead of handing it over, he reached behind Ryou’s head to bunch his hair into a loose ponytail. A few strands still hung around Ryou’s face, but Malik seemed satisfied.

Ryou watched him as he opened his kohl pot, lifting out the applicator by its finial. He let a few drops of water from the tap hit the slender stick, then shook it off and dipped it back into the pot. It came out coated dusty black. He brought it towards Ryou’s face, then paused uncertainly.

“I haven’t done this on someone else,” Malik said. He studied Ryou, tilted his face up with one finger under his chin, then smoothed the skin near his right eye taut with his thumb. “Close your eyes,” he said.

Ryou felt the applicator against his upper eyelid and jerked back a little.

“Hey, hold still.”

“Sorry.”

It was a strange tickling, tugging sensation and Ryou fought the urge to squeeze his eyes closed tighter. He could feel the warmth of Malik’s breath and body heat on his cheek as he leaned in.

“Okay, now the other eye.”

Ryou kept his eyes closed, feeling the pressure of Malik’s fingertips adjust as he moved slightly. The applicator danced along his left eyelid, a little more smoothly this time.

“Hmm.”

“Can I open my eyes?” Ryou asked.

“Hang on. I want to go over it again.”

He dragged the applicator farther this time, out past the edges of Ryou’s eye sockets. Ryou could feel the lines on his skin sweeping towards his temples.

He paused, and Ryou opened his eyes and tried to turn to the mirror, but Malik stopped him with his fingers on Ryou’s jaw. “I’m not done yet!” he said. “Wait.”

He dipped the applicator again and held it in front of Ryou’s eyes. “This might be a little tricky,” he said. “You have to kind of blink against this, to get the kohl in the rims of your eyes.”

Ryou leaned away.

“Come on,” he said. “It’s fine, just give it a try.”

Ryou struggled to let Malik get the stick close enough to his half-open eyes, but kept twitching away or blinking at the last second and soon they were both laughing, and Ryou’s watering eyes were threatening to mess up Malik’s work.

“Let me see if I can do it myself,” Ryou said, taking the applicator from Malik.

“Okay. Just put it against your bottom lid and close your eye, and then sort of pull it along.”

He did as Malik instructed, biting his lip and trying not to let his eyes tear up. He could feel the powdery kohl start to seep along the edges of his eyelids as he slid the applicator between them. “Is that okay?”

Malik turned Ryou’s chin towards him again and inspected his work. “Pretty good,” he said, smiling. “Now the wings.”

He positioned Ryou’s head again with gentle fingertips, and Ryou could tell that he was feeling more confident. The applicator swept against the bottom ridge of Ryou’s eye socket, two quick dashes echoing the line of his cheekbone. Malik did the other eye, then a second pass on both, and then Ryou felt him step away. He opened his eyes and Malik chuckled. “Damn.”

“Oh god. Do I look ridiculous?”

With one hand on Ryou’s shoulder he turned him to face the mirror. “That’s not the word I would use.”

Ryou watched his eyes widen in his own reflection, and gave a weird, stifled laugh of surprise. “I…”

In the museum, there was a small alabaster bust, softened and discolored by time but with eyes still rimmed by defiant dark lines. Its gaze was solemn, its eyes had watched millennia. Those eyes, not his own, were what Ryou saw gazing back at him from the mirror, weighted with the serenity of eternal life. The black against his pale skin made him think of calligraphy ink swept boldly across a virgin page, or ravens’ wings beating against a snowy sky. The kohl dressing his eyes was starkly beautiful, and for a moment, he looked like someone who had the wisdom and the confidence to carry that beauty; like someone who watched the earth roll through the centuries, who probably conversed with deities.

Then he blushed as he realized how absurdly far he was soaring, and tried to settle back into his body, here in his own small space, with Malik.

Malik wetted the tip of his little finger with his tongue, and dabbed away a smudge from the inner corner of Ryou’s eyelid. Then he leaned in, their chests pressed together, and murmured against his lips, “Ryou, you’re more beautiful than the gods.”

Ryou opened his mouth hesitantly to Malik, eager for the kiss but wary about smudging the kohl. Malik cradled Ryou’s face between his hands, placing his fingers carefully to avoid the wings above Ryou’s cheekbones. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I’m not going to mess it up.” He pressed another soft kiss against Ryou’s mouth, and then, with a little grin curving his lips, he started to sink to his knees.

“Malik,” Ryou sighed.

Malik mouthed at Ryou through the fabric of his sweatpants, both arms tight against the backs of Ryou’s thighs to hold him in place as he started to squirm. “Malik,” Ryou said again, his eyes fluttering closed as Malik started to trail the fingers of one hand against the sensitive skin at the base of his spine.

“Are you really going to—”

“Don’t you want me to?” Malik asked, cupping the bulge between Ryou’s legs.

“Yes, but—right here?”

In answer to that, Malik hooked his fingers into Ryou’s waistband and dragged his sweatpants down to his knees. Ryou fought to keep his eyes open as Malik pressed kisses into his thighs, working his way up with deliberate, agonizing slowness. He braced himself against the counter as he felt the pressure of Malik’s tongue, soft and hot.

Ryou repeated Malik’s name like a chant, feeling himself twitch with eagerness until finally Malik shifted and took him into his mouth. He went deep, swirling his tongue around Ryou’s length to slick him with saliva. As Malik started to move faster, using his fingers as well as his mouth, a sharp whimper escaped from Ryou.

Malik looked up and Ryou stared down at him, on his knees in front of him like a supplicant in a temple. Without the kohl, Malik’s bare eyes looked younger and softer, and his emotions had no stern shadow to veil them. Ryou could read everything in those eyes: the desire laid bare, and the adoration, and a little flash of smug amusement. He felt warmth pool at the corner of his own eye and realized, too late to stop it, that a tear was ready to fall.

Malik saw, and slid his free hand up Ryou’s abdomen, a calming caress.

Ryou could feel his climax building, pushing, stealing his control to seize his hips and buck them forward into Malik’s throat. He let go of the counter to shove one hand into his hair, moaning shameless  _ ahh _ s as Malik worked him relentlessly. Malik hummed his approval and the vibration made Ryou choke on a scream.

“Malik—” he moaned a final time, warning him, but Malik didn’t pull back, just closed his eyes and let his hands gradually slow as Ryou pulsed in his mouth.

Ryou’s breathy gasps rang against the tile as he recovered, leaning on the counter to stay upright. Malik rose to his feet with feline grace, and looked pleased with himself as he wiped his mouth. “Good?” he asked.

Ryou laughed softly and pulled Malik into a kiss. “Always,” he whispered.

Malik rubbed his thumb along Ryou’s cheekbone. “Kohl didn’t last long.”

“What?” Ryou turned to look at the mirror and gave a little cry of dismay. His left eye was a smoky smudge; when he’d grabbed his own hair, he’d forgotten about the kohl, and rubbed his palm across his eye. “Crap, I’m sorry.”

Malik laughed at his apology. “It’s just makeup. Want me to fix it for you?”

“Right now?” Ryou shook his head, rocking his hips up to nudge against Malik’s arousal. “I think there’s something more important right now.”

Malik grunted, but then reached past Ryou to grab a washcloth and run it under the tap. “Let me take it off, at least,” he said. Although his voice sounded breathless, his hands, as he wiped away the kohl, were gentle and slow. When he’d cleaned away all but the black shadows that clung stubbornly to Ryou’s inner lids, he smiled, and kissed Ryou’s dampened cheek.

Together they looked at Ryou’s restored reflection—a bit boring now, Ryou thought. Pale and plain.

“You look like you again,” Malik said. He put his arms around Ryou and kissed the side of his neck. “Still more beautiful than the gods.”


End file.
